


The Top of the Tree

by spoowriterfic



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Missing Scene, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29324886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoowriterfic/pseuds/spoowriterfic
Summary: Wynonna gives Waverly and Nicole their Christmas presents a few days early.Mostly fluff with a teeny tiny bit of hurt/comfort.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	The Top of the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> You all knew I'd get around to the Christmas sweaters at some point, didn't you?
> 
> This was sitting on my hard drive titled, appropriately enough, "Sweaters" for months because I couldn't quite figure out where it was going and then all of a sudden, a few days ago, it all came into focus.
> 
> This is, very specifically and intentionally, set *before* the half-angel reveal, mostly because it still tickles me that not a single person appeared to have been in any way shocked or confused that Waverly might be part angel.
> 
> There is one tiny reference to my own personal headcanon about the photo of Nicole and Waverly on Nicole's bookshelf (the one Bunny puts face down), which is addressed in my previous stories "The Kindness War" and "The Sun is Just Around the Corner," but neither is necessary to make sense of this.

When Wynonna burst into Nicole’s darkened bedroom in the middle of the afternoon six days before Christmas, neither Nicole nor Waverly even wondered how she’d gotten into the house.

That ship had _long_ since sailed.

But Waverly did react with alarm for another reason when Wynonna, upon seeing them curled up in bed together at three in the afternoon, sang teasingly, “The love-shack is a little old place where – ”

Waverly covered Nicole’s ears and hissed, “Shhh!!!”

“The hell? Sure, I’m no Celine Dion but my singing isn’t _that_ bad.” Wynonna frowned, belatedly noticing the nonexistent lighting and the drawn blackout curtains. “We didn’t even have _that_ much to drink at lunch.”

“Migraine,” Nicole mumbled, covering the sleep mask already protecting her eyes with her arm.

That didn’t help much, and Wynonna glanced to Waverly for an explanation. She knew Nicole had mild migraines fairly regularly – she assumed they were triggered by hormones, though Nicole had never really said anything more than that she was able to manage them with over the counter painkillers – but this appeared to be an order of magnitude more intense.

“She’s allergic to arugula,” Waverly explained, scowling. “ _Really_ allergic to arugula. Which Mama swore was not in that salad.”

Wynonna winced. “Why’d you eat it?”

“Didn’t notice it?” Nicole suggested weakly, then exhaled when she was met with nothing but silence. “Took her word for it?” she tried again. At the continued, protracted silence, she sighed heavily. “Wanted to make your mom like me?”

Wynonna suppressed a smile, despite it all, and she caught Waverly’s reaction out of the corner of her eye – it was a very similar mix of appreciation for how much Nicole wanted to make a good second impression on Michelle and annoyance that she’d put herself in danger to do so.

“Sorry,” Wynonna said, much more quietly. “But, like, migraine or _migraine_?”

“Migraine like she can’t see out of her left eye,” Waverly said, still protectively covering Nicole’s ears.

“Shit,” Wynonna said, her own eyes widening. “I’ll go. I just wanted to drop these off.” She held up the bag in her right hand, suddenly finding herself unable to make direct eye contact and instead walking over to the armchair near Nicole’s closed window to put the bag down. “You may have noticed Mama’s really into this Christmas thing. So I got you these. To wear to dinner. On Christmas.”

“You got us something to wear for Christmas dinner?” Waverly said, just barely suppressing a smile even as her eyes warmed and misted over in a way that tugged every heartstring Wynonna had.

But although it was only Nicole, they weren’t _alone_ , and Wynonna found herself instinctively hiding the softer side of her reaction. Nicole already occupied some kind of hazy space in her heart in between friend and sister (a spot she, in her more wistful, vulnerable moments, thought could maybe, kind of, sort of resemble what other people felt about their best friends, but having never had one, she wasn’t actually sure). But, even so, she just…couldn’t.

Which was pointless, because Nicole damn well knew her better than that, just as much as Waverly did.

So Wynonna shrugged, still avoiding eye contact even though she knew Waverly saw right through her.

Waverly saw how much a small part of her desperately wanted this, even though in her heart of hearts she knew it couldn’t last. How much she wanted Mama home. How much she wanted to have a Christmas that felt…normal. A real, proper family Christmas.

How much the little wounded girl inside her – the one reeling from losing her sister and shooting her father in one night; the one who had wanted…had _needed_ …understanding and compassion only to be met with disbelief and scorn instead – wanted her _mom_.

Waverly could see that Wynonna was embarrassed to have been caught doing them an overt kindness. And, because she was Wynonna, she was trying very desperately not to show any of that.

In fact, she saw Waverly catch the little flinch when Wynonna saw her _get_ it, and she smiled slightly to let her know she wasn’t going to call her on it.

Façade saved.

“So, I’ll get outta here,” Wynonna said, just above a whisper. “Haught, guessing you won’t want dinner?” Nicole’s low groan was more than enough of an answer. “Waves,” she added quietly, “want me to bring you something later? You must be starving since you couldn’t actually eat any of Mama’s poison salad.”

“It _was_ kinda swimming in sour cream,” she said. “I think Mama was going for ranch dressing, but….” But twenty years of incarceration had not done much to speak of for Michelle’s cooking skills. “That’s okay, Wynonna. Once my best baby here gets to sleep, I’ll make myself something. But thank you.”

Wynonna smiled, leaning down to give Waverly a quick kiss on the forehead.

Then she looked down at Nicole, lying there looking miserable even curled up in Waverly’s lap, and found to her surprise that she was just about to reach down and rest a comforting hand on her forehead, just like she would do for Waverly.

She saw Waverly catch that, too, and watched as she stifled another knowing look of appreciation.

Still, their eyes met, and Wynonna rolled her eyes in acknowledgement.

It wouldn’t hurt _too_ much for Haught to know she cared. A little.

Would it?

It had been obvious to Wynonna for a long time that they’d eventually be actual sisters, so why not bend a little? A _little_?

So she compromised with herself and reached down to briefly squeeze her upper arm. “Feel better,” she whispered, then smiled a little uncomfortably at Waverly and fled before doing anything else embarrassing.

Fortunately, no one saw her almost trip over Calamity Jane on her way down the stairs.

She was walking out when she noticed the framed picture of Waverly and Nicole she’d taken just before their six month anniversary date the previous summer, smiling in reflex at the joy glowing in Waverly’s eyes. It sat in pride of place at the top of Nicole’s bookshelf.

It occurred to Wynonna as she glanced around the rest of the living room that although there were several pictures here and there of Nicole and Waverly together, every other photo in her place was of landscapes. They were beautiful shots, most of which Nicole had probably taken herself on various mountain climbing excursions, but there were none of her family, or of herself as a kid. Just mountain climbing, Waverly, and one of Calamity Jane as a kitten.

She was just about to leave when something else caught her eye and she frowned, kneeling down to find a bra she was ninety percent sure belonged to Waverly half behind the bookcase the picture was sitting on.

She glanced back up the stairs, then at the bra, then shook her head and slipped out the door before she could think any more about her baby sister’s sex life.

* * *

When she got back to the Homestead just before dusk, she found Mama balanced precariously at the top of a rickety ladder, hanging Christmas lights.

She couldn’t quite figure out what she felt, standing there in the snow and watching as her long-absent mother risked life and limb to hang some Christmas lights that, likely, no one but them would ever see. She couldn’t decide if she was feeling excitement, relief, terror, or skepticism, so she decided not to feel anything at all and instead just stood there watching until she finished and climbed back down.

“Shit!” Michelle gasped when she turned around and found Wynonna standing a bit behind the ladder, arms crossed over her chest. “How long have you been here?”

“Couple minutes.”

“Where’s your sister?”

“Nicole’s.”

“Hm,” Mama grunted, and Wynonna frowned.

Sure, Nicole _had_ arrested her and, sure, Mama was _technically_ a fugitive, but….

But it was Nicole, and for Waverly’s sake if nothing else, she couldn’t let that animosity stand.

(It certainly didn’t have _anything_ to do with how she herself felt about Nicole. Nope. Not at all. Not even a little bit. It was all for Waverly.)

“She’s the love of your daughter’s life,” Wynonna said, finding herself in the unusual position of having to defend Nicole’s honor. “Who, by the way, knowingly gave herself a twelve on the one-to-ten migraine scale just so she wouldn’t offend you by not eating that salad you made.”

Mama frowned. “What?”

“When she asked if there was arugula in the salad…it’s because she’s allergic. Really allergic. Which means she knows _exactly_ what arugula looks like. So she knew you lied and she ate the damn thing anyway so you wouldn’t get any madder at her.”

“Oh,” Mama said. Her face flickered, but it didn’t tell her much.

Wynonna knew that guarded, carefully blank look intimately. She was kind of an expert at it, after all.

So she sighed and said, “Anyway, Waves is staying over there tonight.”

They walked inside together, where Wynonna found a variety of Christmas decorations in various states of organization, all scattered across the living room floor, and another bunch on the rug near the stairs. She couldn’t help a slight twitch of a smile, despite everything.

“The love of her life?” Mama asked, just a touch of skepticism in her voice.

“Yeah,” Wynonna said. “You don’t have to worry, Mama. There isn’t really anyone who _actually_ deserves Waverly…but there’s no one else in the world who comes closer than her overgrown unmanicured carrot.”

“Hm,” Michelle said again, but Wynonna could see the softening behind her eyes.

_Merry Christmas, Waves_ , she thought. If she accomplished nothing else in the next couple of days, at least she’d smoothed over those ruffled feathers.

* * *

Nicole woke up grateful mostly that she had already been scheduled for two days off, because to say she felt like death warmed over would have been an insult to both death and warmth.

At least her head didn’t hurt anymore, though her brain still felt foggy and the rest of her felt like she’d just come back from a week of mountain climbing. It didn’t help that she woke to an empty, though rumpled, bed, and soon enough the need to go find Waverly forced her to her feet. She stopped to brush her teeth, though, because if anyone in the world deserved a pristine good morning kiss after spending the night before on pillow and medication duty, it was Waverly Earp.

She ventured downstairs, stopping halfway down to pet an obviously relieved Calamity, who insistently wound herself between Nicole’s legs with an emphatic meow that caught Waverly’s attention and caused her to turn and look up from her position on the couch.

Their eyes met and Waverly smiled.

And, just like that, Nicole fell in love.

Even more. Or maybe again.

Or both.

Nicole felt her jaw actually _drop_ as all the breath just drained out of her body in a moment of awestruck wonder.

The dawn light shone behind Waverly’s head, glowing in the lighter highlights of her hair, and her eyes warmed as Waverly smiled a casual good morning at her – seemingly totally unaware that she sat there looking for all the world like an angel.

After a frozen second, Nicole shook herself and crossed the room, sitting at Waverly’s side and just looking at her. Drinking in her beauty – inside and out – like it was the very first time she’d set eyes on her.

“Feel better?” Waverly asked lightly, as though Nicole hadn’t just fallen head over heels in love all over again right in front of her.

“I feel great,” Nicole said, reaching up to run her fingers through Waverly’s hair, her brain fog and aching muscles and exhaustion totally forgotten. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

“No, I – ” Waverly began instinctively protesting, but stopped herself when she saw the absolute sincerity in Nicole’s eyes. “What brought that on?” she asked with a slightly bashful smile.

“You,” Nicole said.

“Just sitting here?”

“Just sitting here,” Nicole said. “And because you’re not only the most _beautiful_ person I know…you’re also the _best_ person I know. And that’s…your heart…it’s just as beautiful as the outside of you and I just…I love you. So much, Waves.”

“If you were anyone else, I’d think you were buttering me up for something,” Waverly jokingly accused her, taking any sting out of her words by running her thumb along Nicole’s jaw. “Really, though. How are you feeling?”

Nicole shrugged.

“That bad, huh?”

She shrugged again. “My head’s fine. I just feel….”

“Kinda terrible,” Waverly said. Nicole was very careful to avoid triggers for her worst migraines, so they’d only been through this once before during their relationship, but it didn’t really matter. She knew Nicole so thoroughly that she could see the all the signs of the aftereffects of her migraine without even really needing to look for them.

“Do I remember Wynonna coming by at some point?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Waverly said, startling Nicole when she jumped up and trotted quickly up the stairs. “She brought these!” she added on her way back. Nicole raised her eyebrows in question. “I think they’re ugly Christmas sweaters.”

Nicole gaped. “ _Wynonna_ bought us ugly Christmas sweaters?”

It wasn’t that she doubted Wynonna cared – far from it, in fact – nor even that she really thought Wynonna was averse to or even ambivalent about the holidays.

It was just a very…forthright…gesture from someone who tended to be much more circumspect with anyone not named Waverly Earp.

Waverly was checking the size on the tag on one of the sweaters. She said, “I think this is yours,” just before she pulled it out of the bag and immediately dissolved into helpless laughter.

She handed the sweater to Nicole, who held it up and immediately started laughing herself.

“It’s Calamity!” Waverly wheezed. “With laser eyes!”

“So it is,” Nicole said, putting her sweater to the side, a playful challenge in her eyes. “What’s on yours? The lyrics to ‘Silent Night’ in, like, Aramaic or something?”

Waverly glared playfully at her, taking out her own bright green Christmas sweater. It was adorned with…. “Oh, my God,” Nicole laughed. “She’s turning you into a Christmas tree!”

Waverly didn’t react; she was preoccupied with a lump she’d located sewn into the cuff of the sleeve. Then her jaw dropped in realization and she met Nicole’s eyes just before she pushed the switch attached to the battery pack and the ornaments on her sweater lit up.

All of a sudden, it wasn’t _quite_ a joke anymore. Waverly sensed her change in mood and looked quizzically at her, her face lit now not only with the dawn glow but also the reflected light from her sweater. “It’s perfect,” Nicole breathed.

“But I – ”

Nicole held the sweater up against Waverly’s body. “Wynonna made you the angel at the top of the tree,” she said, realizing it herself as she said it.

“N-no,” Waverly protested. “She’s probably just teasing me about the menstruangel.”

“The…what?”

With a slightly wistful smile, Waverly explained, then added, “Besides…I’m no angel,” old insecurities bubbling up and making her make a show of rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t mean _literally_ ,” Nicole said. In the future, she would look back on this moment and wonder about that – because she was pretty sure a not-so-insignificant part of herself had absolutely meant it one hundred percent literally even though none of them would know that for a few more days – but for now she just smiled at Waverly with gentle affection. “But you’re definitely _my_ angel. And apparently Wynonna’s too. But you knew that.”

“Nicole – ”

“Hey,” Nicole said, “you know how we feel about you. Both of us. This is…it’s just Wynonna saying that you’re…the most important. To her. You know that, right? She loves you so much…she’s just showing it by making you the topper of her tree.” There was a long pause as Waverly’s old insecurities battled against the confident woman she’d become – the one whose insecurities had been ripped back open by a demon only days before. “Waverly…tell me you know she loves you more than anything.”

“No, I do. I just….”

“I know. It’s okay.” Nicole leaned over to give Waverly a kiss that quickly turned more intense than she’d meant it to. “We’ll both work on convincing you. In different ways, of course.”

“We’re gonna have to get her some _really_ good whiskey for Christmas in exchange for these,” Waverly said before she began to giggle again. “Calamity, where’d you find that?” she asked as the cat dragged a bra over to her cat bed by the wall.

Nicole followed her eyes, grinning at both the sight and the memory it elicited. “Thank God Wynonna didn’t see _that_ ,” she said. “We’d never hear the end of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. There is no way on Earth that Nicole didn't do every single little thing she could to butter up Mama just to make Waverly happy in between recovering from Jolene's mind-frogging and Christmas day.
> 
> 2\. If you watch the Christmas dinner scene, aside from Waverly scooping up a row of peas on her knife, Nicole is the only one who's really actively eating anything (I think you see Jeremy take one half-hearted bite of something). That, along with her effusive praise, goes with number 1 above.
> 
> 3\. I love the idea of Nicole just randomly glancing at Waverly every once in a while and falling in love all over again because Waverly.
> 
> 4\. The sweaters are amazing, and I love the idea that Wynonna got the Calamity one to tease Nicole while getting Waverly a pretty one.
> 
> 5\. The 'unmanicured carrot' thing is a reference to a tweet of Melanie's during the live-tweeting of, I think, "I Fall to Pieces." She uses the word "insane," which I replaced here with "overgrown" but the turn of phrase has totally tickled me ever since and I just had to toss it in again.
> 
> 6\. Sorry for two migraines in two stories so close together. There were MONTHS in between starting each of these. Oops?


End file.
